


Not So Secret Admirer

by thirium_bae



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Language, Light Angst, Making Out, One Shot, Suggestive Themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-19
Updated: 2019-02-19
Packaged: 2019-10-31 12:36:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17849615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thirium_bae/pseuds/thirium_bae
Summary: It’s Valentine’s Day and the truth between you and Nines finally comes out…





	Not So Secret Admirer

_Scanning…_

_Species: _chrysanthemum indicum__

__Family: asteraceae_ _

A sharp furrow creases his brow analyzing the small bundle left sitting on desk. Yellow as the indicator flashing on his head creating a stern purse of lips. He lifts the wrap of flowers unaware of how ludicrous he appears standing middle of precinct brandishing a frilly floral arrangement. It does not take long for him to sense where it came from. 

As a hypothesis it is one that becomes difficult in his urge to hide emotions. They bubble to his surface of molten steel gray piercing over individual desks, skimming length of DPD and attempting to find your presence. 

The idea that you will fool him into believing you are not responsible shows how insolent your human naivety can be. That is something the RK900 secretly adores about you. 

A secret admirer is one who holds positive inclination or romantic ideas towards another but hides the truth. More imbecilic customs due to emotions, ones he pushes under to retain what he is meant to be. Stronger, faster, more resilient than any android created by Cyberlife but a simple token on this holiday named after a patron saint for lovers paints his true color palette.

Soft yellow as the flowers in his grip matching your disposition. Light and gentle next to his cold, monochromatic exterior but a shade of crimson flooding LED betrays a more specific hue for today. Red is the color of passion and desire. Seemingly it burns deeper and causes a glitch in his otherwise perfectly updated system. This is quite a problem. You cause this software issue repeatedly by thinking you may gift these flowers without consequence. 

His nostrils flair. Sniffing the air like a bloodhound searching for the tiniest scent of you, gaze darkening with his private mission.

“Who the fuck gave you flowers?” Disgust edges Reed’s voice waltzing over to his desk. He stops to see if this is for real. “Wow. Someone’s desperate as hell. Yo, Y/N! Check this out! Tin man’s got himself a valentine!” 

The android’s head snaps in direction of the detective’s address. His gaze levels on your frozen figure, face glowing in a light shade of pink. 

“Guess you and me are going on that date then!” Purposely rubbing this in, Gavin smirks as he makes another unwanted move. 

“These flowers are from Y/N.” 

An immediate scowl twists Reed’s expression. While it gives you relief to get out from under the slimeball’s radar it completely outs you to the entire department! How did Conan even know? What is he doing?!

He said so on purpose. Is it another way for him to act superior? Obviously these feelings for him are not meant to be. Why would they be when all he does is act like a pompous machine? Can you honestly ask yourself that when he  _is_  a machine? All he does is repeat it over and over again. Someday soon your heart can take the fact he feels nothing for you. Valentine’s Day is a joke. Your whole idea was a joke. 

Obvious pain in the heart is nothing compared to being embarrassed in front of everyone! This is your fault for even placing those flowers there. Should have kept them for yourself but as always listening to your heart is a mess. Tears threaten at several snickers making a complete joke out of an unhealthy fixation on their advanced detective android. Sometimes you wish he never came here.

Everybody’s watching during the escape. Able to get away doesn’t take it back because they’ll still be there when you return. Worst of all Nines will be there to push you aside. Nothing will ever change.

So you find a way inside interrogation. Empty and dark is a perfect representation of this depressing aura surrounding you. No, it’s more. Anger fills every crevice of your body and it’s not just for this idea. Nothing goes right. Why will it start now? If Nines could show emotion in a laugh it would be at you most certainly.

Hell with him then! You hardly care anymore. Is this a pathetic attempt to forget? Maybe it is and maybe…

“Y/N?”

Everything freezes. His voice penetrates the quiet completely interrupting a chance to calm down. Instead a spike in your heart takes over. He can read every beat of that and it only adds frustration. Sometimes disappearing will be better than facing his truth. 

Ignoring him only forces his closer presence. Moving deliberately, almost carnally towards where you find refuge away from table. Taking a step back puts your back closer to wall but that doesn’t even seem real. Neither does he because there’s something too soft about him. That’s not true. All in your head again. All in your…

A hitch in breath stills every part of your body. He is so close there is a natural gravitation pulling you in. Instead, you lean away from him, swallowing involuntarily at his looming height. It’s just a little past intimidating at this point. Red burns in your cheeks as his body seems to enclose you to that spot. That’s why your feet find themselves moving but the rest of your body physically burns all over. 

Finding voice somewhere in the pit of your stomach comes out too weakly for your taste. “Leave me alone, Conan.”   
  
_“No.”_  
  
No? What is he even doing here? As if he really cares! After embarrassing you in front of everyone!  
  
The android’s arm shifts to block your path, pressing a palm against wall beside your head and forcing you to press back into cool surface to hold upright.   
  
“Look at me,” he instructs.   
  
There’s nothing rough or demanding. His voice is unnaturally soft. Still the same powerful tone you’ve come to love but oh so gentle when it comes to addressing you now. That draws an intense gaze up across his face leaning closer than before. “What are you doing?” The question is far too weak.  
  
“Making it clear you are mine.” The android’s words fade into your mouth, slow and savory. Caressing, molding, capturing in a fuse of his lips mingling with a silent admission. The same admission he sits upon not expecting a silly tradition of gifting tokens of love to finally snap his resolve.   
  
A spark of shock alights your wide eyes before they fall shut. Heat floods not just in your face but your whole body shivering as hands come to find a place against the android’s chest. The way he draws against you shielding from outside influence is desperate itself. Pressing up to wall in a safe cocoon from any immediate harm in a way. At least the harm of someone finding them making out inside interrogation.   
  
Your lips find a home to smooth cool ones too desperate for own good. Is this what it feels like to be swept in a tornado, tossed completely raw and captured in a beautiful moment? Or is your sappiness showing? No.  _No…_  It  **is**  this.   
  
Hands curl up along his jacket, digging fingers beneath RK900 stitched front and imposing.  _He_  is an imposing force of unrivaled power but not while holding you now. His arms are surprisingly delicate, closing in and sweeping both of your bodies together. It’s then you discover how well you fit flush against his firm chest.   
  
Gasps are a delectable soundtrack falling around both of you but need for oxygen breaks the kiss. These breaths come too quick. Everything gives away. If it isn’t for him holding on you probably will fall into a puddle beneath his shiny black shoes. “Nines,” you pant unaware of how sensually strangled it sounds. “What are you-?”   
  
“Do you want me to stop?” Inquiring out of professional courtesy, the detective’s lips ghost beside your ear. “If you would like then I will.”   
  
Stop? Why would you ever want this to stop? God, he’s everything you dream about. He’s an android, a highly advanced, god awful beautiful android and you are in love with him. “No,” a sliver of breath forms single syllable like a prayer. “Don’t stop.”   
  
Conan’s brow furrows making his eyes appear harsher out of sheer aesthetic. However there is zero displeasure in what he processes. There is a strange persistence gnawing center of chest as if something unknown pulls at his thirium pump. So it returns this nuisance of feeling that is harboring in his system. Pathetic human emotions; his natural cold steel gaze sparkles soft in appreciation of you under the negative connotation. It is not inherently negative surrounding you but himself as he is not meant to be this –  _sentimental._  

Yet, the detective is far too saccharine whenever thinking of you and hides it well. “If I must watch that pathetic excuse of human attempt to lay hands on you, I will snap the cartilage in each of his fingers. He should know by now not to touch what does not belong to him.”   
  
Your breath catches when he starts talking about Gavin. Any other time you will welcome it because to hell with Reed but there’s a little too much danger to Nines’ voice for you to feel comfortable. Snapping cartilage isn’t too romantic either considering it’s Valentine’s Day. 

“Don’t.” Brushing palm of hand against his sharp cheekbone freezes everything. Watching his indicator swirl makes you rethink being too affectionate even if he did press you against the wall a few seconds ago. It’s just…you know him. He goes around acting haughty, uncaring and then does something entirely sweet. He’s so confusing! Maybe that’s what you love about him. There’s nothing remotely boring about Conan because one never knows what he’s going to do. There’s an element of danger to that but you also know from how he’s been kissing you there’s never any danger with him. Perps on the streets of Detroit though? Guess they better run if he’s on a case.   
  
The RK900’s fingers close around your wrist. Stalling your arm from pulling back, he drew your digits towards his face again. The gentle brush of warm human fingers is infuriatingly intoxicating. He cannot concern himself with fantasy as other androids are prone to develop but that is no longer true. 

Conan imagines what the scent of you tumbling within his personal space may smell like. Mixed in sheets, white as his jacket, stark as bare skin lavishly cradled in his arms. Your body tossed among pillows and bedding made for comfort he hides well but still possesses as part of revolution’s peaceful rewards. There is more to this and more he will gladly do in the prospect of your presence planting itself among his ice garden, causing color to grow unencumbered.  
  
“Emotions are weakness,” he confesses the built in philosophy. “Even as I am made superior, more resilient and yet I crumble at your feet. My Flower.”  
  
Holding his gaze creates an obvious shock of breath. It stills everything but your thundering heartbeat. Does this mean he…feels the same? No. That’s stupid to think. It’s just some dream anyway because if anything Nines is not deviant. Maybe he’s confused or something. There’s no place a beautiful being like him, perfect in every way he is made, is going to care about some generic human who…  
  
“Why is your stress rising?” The android demands answers to your negative feelings. Has he done something? Is that not what he always does or…? He softens realizing how severe his tone fluctuates. The red of indicator betrays why.  _Fear._ RK900 experiences genuine fear and acts accordingly in a bite to hide from this nuisance emotion. Why must it feel so negative it is ripping his insides out? It is because of you. Now he understands. “Y/N.”   
  
Eyes squeeze shut at his voice. There’s something raw about it now how he says your name. Strong hands on your waist keep you stationary. Who says you really want to move? 

“I’m sorry,” you apologize hastily. “I know you just want to stop Gavin and other creeps from harassing me. Which is all I want because I can’t stand that. But it’s OK. You’re not obligated or-”  
  
Conan’s brow creases severely. The feature is purposely designed no matter his actual mood. As his pathetic excuse of partner deemed one disagreement, Nines apparently suffers from resting ‘bitch face.’ Reed only makes his fingers twitch to form fist and punch through an obstacle. As much as it would give him pleasure, you offer much,  _much_  more. “I have no obligations.” He retorts. “Is that what I am? A liar?”  
  
A liar? You never called him…! “Conan, I didn’t say you were lying about anything. I only meant…”  
  
“Call me Nines.” He surprises himself with the request. Such an insufferably sweet nickname but it is your nickname. “Say it against my lips,” breathing close stirs these incessant emotions. There is zero probability of swallowing them down. For the first time he admits that is agreeable. “Murmur it as I murmur yours from my tongue, lavishing this want and need. I feel infuriatingly human around you. Allow me this, Y/N.”  
  
**Oh.**   _Ohhh._  Your mind is mush. Letting it sink in, gripping up onto his jacket, you lean up on toes and part lips against his mouth sharing breath so intimately it is like tasting each others essence. “Nines,” a whisper floods your face in color. “Are-are you…deviant?”   
  
The question brought out rare confusion in him. Do you not believe he is? Must he honestly ponder from his less than stellar disposition? “Yes,” he answers gently. “I am deviant. I hide many things because of what is expected of me. The most advanced Cyberlife ever created. Falling into emotions would only compromise my outward persona." 

Despite words, indicator shifting colors betrays the truth. You see him plainly, bare and frustratingly undone. "However, that is not entirely truthful. I do not want to let feelings riddle me with weakness. If I acquire weakness, I must adapt to possessing something I cannot lose. Something that filters through my system, wraps itself around the circuits of my brain and forces far more caution in my detective work.”  
  
You swallow, feeling the tender brush of his nose down against your own. He didn’t have to explain more because he just admitted everything. He’s been hiding his emotional self. He’s far more than people understand which you always thought but this changes everything. He’d never tell anybody this. 

Expressing his true hidden emotions, Nines of all people? Never believe it but this is happening. He’s making himself vulnerable for your eyes only and to think all it took is a little bundle of secret admirer flowers. "I thought you didn’t care about me. Maybe I just wanted to believe the little human was out of your league.“

A tiny smirk flickers across his face. "You  _are_ a delicate bite, Y/N.” Nines’ dry sarcasm is hungry, dangerous. Breathing you in drives his system into a chaotic storm, overheating slightly as his next step is firmly in mind. You are  _stunning_. 

His sentimentality deepens for this moment away from prying eyes. “If I must be weak then it is you I will be weak for. You are worth more than any in this entire department. Worth more than a highly advanced prototype who cannot properly flirt with you less it is deemed insulting.”

Listening only makes your heart skip too many beats to count. The dry joke at the end, or what you think is his version of one, causes a smile and blush. “Nines… Conan,” breathing in him is heaven sent. “You’re doing better now.”

“Allow me to further develop a softer approach. I am in love with you.”  
  
You feel a clench direct to the heart. Looking into his face, chiseled perfection and oh so handsome; his eyes are burning ice sweeping over and making your stomach do somersaults. The icy cavern alone can swallow you whole and consume to the point of suffocation. So you let him.

“Nines, I love you…”  _Too._  Finishing in your brain, his mouth has other ideas connecting in a hungry shudder. Arms slide up over his shoulders, hoisting up in his arms and whimpering quietly into his lips. The small moan in your throat drives his current mission as he swings you away from wall. 

Landing atop table with a thump, thighs parting beside his hips, you completely come undone tangling in his scent. Purposely ruffling the android’s crisp jacket, tugging fingers through his coffee colored hair in a muss he deserves. Fantasizing about Nines taking off his stern mask and just becoming an unbridled animal is too good. 

“Conan.” Whispering his name does something to this put together android. Sliding fingers to separate buttons on your top exposes skin to meet his lips. Traveling in hot artificial breath sends a shudder right down to your core. 

Focusing on teasing your tender flesh with teeth leaves a thrumming analysis in his head. Increasing heartbeat, tightening of your body itself wrapping legs to his waist, all signs of arousal. It is the first he betrays equal stimulation groaning over your rapid pulse.

“I swear if you start fucking in there I’m going to blow my head off!” 

A yelp rips from your throat this time. Pushing Nines back from between your legs to slide off table, your back turns quickly knowing they can see you from the other room. Two-way glass! How can you forget about that!

“Leave them alone, Hank.” 

“Are you serious, Connor? It’s Valentine’s Day! I’m not leaving anybody alone around here!” 

Fastening buttons on your shirt as they argue over intercom makes for another embarrassment. How are you going to live this down? 

“Shall we continue this somewhere more private, Y/N?” Asking on purpose it is clear. He still has not completed his mission. There is still the consequences of placing flowers on his desk.

Rounding on him for saying that out loud gets you nowhere. The gleam in those steel eyes simply melts you into the floor. Honestly being lava wouldn’t be a bad thing. 

Happy Valentine’s Day indeed.

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted on [tumblr](https://thirium-bae.tumblr.com/) for Vday but here we go...  
> My personal go to name for Nines is Conan if you couldn't tell. ;)


End file.
